


Living The Tennis Life 3

by Loverer



Series: Living The Tennis Life [3]
Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-06-09 02:27:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15257397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loverer/pseuds/Loverer
Summary: Ch1- Roger lost his 2018 Wimbledon QF.Ch2 - Rafa's loss at Wimby 2018Ch3 - Rafa upset about Djoerer at Lvaer Cup 18Ch4 - After both Rafa and Roger's USO losses.Ch5 - Roger asks Rafa about Laver Cup 2019





	1. Nothin Left To Say

**Author's Note:**

> I can't even begin to describe my feelings right now.
> 
> I have no idea why this fic is Rafa's pov but it is. 
> 
> I don't want to say I hope you like it because there isn't anything to feel good about in it. I'm sad. And this is a sad fic.
> 
> Thanks
> 
> xx
> 
> PS any comforting words would be very welcome :'( this hurts more than I imagined.

He won in an ecstatic fashion. A well earned, hard fought win. And the satisfaction was immense. There was a part of him, of course, which felt sad for Juan. He was always a great guy on tour and he had fought very hard today and throughout the tournament. But this one was for him. Rafa signed the autographs happily for the fans at the exit and obliged for as many selfie requests as possible. 

When he was finally allowed to exit the court, he was happy to be through to the semifinals. For the first time in god knows how many years. 

When he eventually got to the locker room, the scores of day were flashing on the TV on the wall. He paused for a moment taking them in. And then it hit him. Roger lost. 

Roger lost?! Rafa almost did a double take at that. He wouldn't be lying if he said he was a bit overconfident about Roger winning this one. 

But he hadn't. Rafa was a bit dumbstruck to say the least. As he showered and changed and prepared for the press, it struck him anew. This was Roger's chance for a ninth Wimbledon. And it was gone now. The realisation only made him feel worse. 

Rafa was just leaving the locker room when Roger walked in to collect his things from the lockers. 

"Rogi," Rafa started, then faltered, he didn't really know what to say. Roger looked crushed. Worn out. Fatigued. He looked terribly torn. 

"Rogi, I'm sorry you lose like that..." He felt dumb even as he said it but it was out before he realised. 

"Yeah rub it in now Rafa," Roger threw back as he walked past. 

Rafa blinked at him, then followed him. "No no I no mean it like that... I mean. I don't know what I mean.." Rafa faltered again. What was he doing? 

Roger picked up his bags from his bench and started back to leave. But Rafa stood in his way, forcing him to stop. 

"Rogi I just mean I sad that you lose and we won't be playing..." 

"Are you now?" Roger's tone was bitter and it stung. 

All Rafa could do was swallow and nod. 

"Yeah? Thought you're not stupid enough to want to play me in the finals, huh?" 

The words struck Rafa like a punch in the gut. 

"Rogi.. I" Rafa looked around the locker room to make sure no one was around. Then he took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Roger, resting his chin on his shoulder and closing his eyes. 

"You know I not mean it like that." Rafa hoped Roger would understand. Roger always understood. Whenever he has messed up, Roger has always understood. 

Roger was warm under his palms. The scent of his showel gel a comforting familiarity for Rafa. It reminded him of home somehow. The familiar scent of orange and eucalyptus. A strangely strong but soothing combination that Rafa had come to associate with all things good. 

But there was also something unfamiliar today. Roger wasn't hugging back. 

Instead he used his hands, which were between his and Rafa's chest, to gently parted them, breaking the hug. Rafa looked at him with hurt and confusion. 

Roger looked at him for the longest of times. His face was straight and his lips were set. There wasn't the softness that Rafa was so used to seeing in those hazel eyes. There was no sign that Roger understood. 

Finally Roger sighed and walked around Rafa to the door. 

"Rogi," Rafa called out after him, fear clutching his heart now, and Roger stopped just before the door. "I see you at home si?" 

"No, I'm off to Zurich now." 

"I call you then?" Rafa was hovering behind him now. Roger could almost feel his breath on his neck. 

Roger closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in. He wanted to turn around and at least look at Rafa but he couldn't, couldn't bare to look at Rafa's face right now, his hopeful eyes piercing into his very soul. So he stood as he was. 

When Roger spoke again, it was a whisper. "I don't know." 

"You don't know?" There was an edge seeping into Rafa's tone. Why was Roger behaving like this with him? Roger knew very well that Rafa hated it when he acted like this. So distant and uncaring. It got to him in ways nothing else could. 

"Yeah," Roger's own picked up an edge in response. "I don't know." 

Rafa reached out, grabbed Roger's arm and turned him around to face him. "What you mean?" He snapped. 

"I mean I Don't Know," something flared in Roger then and he took his arm back rather defensively. 

There was a moment where they just stared at each other. Rafa searched Roger's face desperately for something, anything, that showed the gentle and caring Roger that he knew. But all he saw was determination in the Roger's eyes. The implications of where this whole thing was potentially heading sent a shiver down his spine. "We... not talk?" 

"Can you just let me go?" 

"But," Rafa almost choked on his own words, "What I do? Why you angry with me Roger?" 

"Why are you so upset now suddenly?" Whatever remnants of patience Roger had left finally gave way to pure anger and his words just spilt out now. He knew it wasn't a good idea. He knew he should cool off and avoid having a conversation with Rafa till he was somewhat normal again but he couldn't hold it any longer. "This is what you wanted too yeah? So you got it now." 

"I not want that! I never want you to lose!" 

"Yeah clearly... Actually you know what, I don't care." 

Rafa was speechless. Stunned into silence. Roger's eyes were brimming with tears now and he was practically glowing with frustration and anger. And instead of doing something to make him happy, like cuddling or going home and watching a film, they were having this pathetic argument. And in a public place at that. 

"Rogi," Rafa took a deep breath in, "you calm down and we will talk later okay?" 

Roger shook his head. "You know what Rafa? I think we should take a break. For a while or something..." 

And at that, Rafa's whole world fell apart. "A b-reak?" He stuttered to himself. 

Roger didn't answer. He only looked for sometime, his eyes softening ever so slightly as he looked at Rafa one last time before turning to leave. 

Rafa didn't stop him this time. He couldn't. 

And then the door clicked open and close again. And Rafa just stood there, listening to the soft echo of the sound. 

\--- 

At the presser, they asked him about Roger's shock defeat. 

"It'll be a tough day for him, having had match points... but congrats to Kevin" 

What else could he say? 

There was nothing left to say.


	2. One Loss Two Many

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what to say here because I was cheering for Rafa with all my heart and it was downright painful to watch, because after Roger, I always support him. 
> 
> I guess the worst part was he had gotten so far for the first time in years and was playing so well that I believed he would go all the way and win the whole thing :( 
> 
> It also feels strange to be talking about a ten year Fedal anniversary and not having either Federer or Nadal, let alone both, in the finals.
> 
> I've had three heartbreaks this Wimbledon - first Roger, then Rafa and after that Serena. And I don't know what else is in store for Sunday. 
> 
> I'm going to hope Anderson has recovered enough to fight it out Sunday and I find myself supporting him, although he beat Roger. I don't even know why! But there you go.
> 
> Anyway, I hope this makes you feel a bit better. *hugs*
> 
> xx

Zurich was on the agneda pretty much straight after the loss but for whatever reason Roger had decided to delay it. 

And he wasn't regretting that at all right now. He had found himself on edge since the night before, when the umpire announced the match would be continued the next day due to the 11pm curfew. Damn the Wimbledon regulations. 

Roger had thought about texting Rafa. Or calling him. Or better still, walking over to see him. But he had quickly abandoned all those ideas and settled instead for a lonely night with only some leftover adrenalin and fatigue from his own match the previous day for company. 

It hadn't exactly been a great couple of days for either of them. He had managed to take out all his pent up frustration on the Spaniard Wednesday evening and there was a small part of him that was worried it was going to affect Rafa's performance tonight. It didn't seem to hinder him as such but he had managed to get two sets down and that was too close for Roger's liking. He was already beating himself up now. He hoped like hell that Rafa hadn't taken him too seriously earlier because he wasn't being serious. He was being stupid. And selfish. And he really wished he could assure Rafa of that. But he didn't dare disturb Rafa's concentration now. The match was still unfinished, although the players had retired for the night, and on nights like these everyone preferred to shut themselves out completely. Roger reckoned he had done enough stupidity already. He wasn't going to disturb Rafa now and add to it. 

So he had kept to himself. But now. Now it was getting too much. 

Roger had hissed, literally hissed as if he had gotten hurt himself, when he saw Rafa slip and fall in the 18th game of the fifth set. After that, he saw him limp. The score was love-forty. Three match points Djokovic. 

Roger closed his eyes and muted the TV. He didn't need to look. And it was over before he could open his eyes again anyway. He saw Djokovic applauding the crowd and switched off the TV, staring at the now blank screen. 

For a long time Roger didn't even move, processing what had just happened. The last twenty four hours had been a blur for him. All sorts of emotions had coursed through him. From bitterness to anger to resentment to finally fatigue and tiredness and then... hope. Hope that maybe Rafa could still make this worth it. Maybe Rafa could win Wimbledon. Maybe he could, in some weird and sad way, salvage Roger's lost Wimbledon. 

It wasn't to be. 

\--- 

Late that evening, Roger didn't think twice before grabbing his phone and walking out of his house. The evening air engulfed him in a slightly humid warmth but it wasn't so bad. It was only when he was half way there to Rafa's that he actually thought about what he was doing. All this time, hours since the match had finished, he had been acting on autopilot. He wanted to visit Rafa ever since that last point and he didn't think before just walking out. 

He didn't know if Rafa wanted to see him. He hadn't even asked. For all he knew, Rafa could literally retort in the same way that he had done two days ago. But in all fairness, Rafa had all right to do that. He did have the right to just hurt Roger back if that's what he wanted. Roger knew he had acted like a major douche and he was ready for the same treatment from Rafa. 

He didn't even realise he was knocking on Rafa's door till the sound of his own knocks brought him back. He blinked and waited for the door to open. 

Carlos peered out and gave him a tight smile. 

"Oh hi Roger" 

"Hi... I um-" Roger began explaining but he didn't need to. 

"Yes, come in, come in" Apparently Carlos was expecting him here. 

Roger didn't know how to feel about that. Did Rafa's team know about their 'break-up', as it were, three days ago? Not that Roger actually meant it. But then again, he did say it so... 

Carlos ushered him in and Roger found himself in a very quiet house. He wasn't expecting that. 

After years of knowing Rafa, a very quiet house usually didn't mean great things. More than anything else, it meant bad mood and a defeat that hurt. Roger knew this silence well. 

"He's upstairs I guess?" 

Carlos nodded. 

"Thanks" Roger headed for the stairs without another word. He wondered briefly where everyone else was but it was secondary right now. The thought left him as he knocked on Rafa's door. 

"Since when you knock Roger?" 

Despite himself, Roger chuckled. Rafa even recognised his knocks by now. And yeah, since when did he knock to enter Rafa's room? Rafa's room or his room was essentially their room and they didn't do this knock thing with each other. 

Roger opened the door softly and peered in. Rafa was on the bed. A PS4 controller in hand and eyes trained on the TV screen in front of him. Roger walked in almost mutely as he went and sat on the bed next to Rafa. He made sure to maintain a chaste distance though. 

Rafa's attention was mostly taken by the game he was playing. To Roger's surprise, it was a tennis video game. And to add to his surprise, the players were Rafa and Djokovic. Roger barely stopped himself from wincing. He didn't think this loss would be that bad. Guess he was wrong. 

Neither of them said anything for the next half an hour. Rafa played and Roger watched. He watched as the Rafa in the game played a fifth set tiebreak against Djokovic in the US open, the only slam to hold fifth set tiebreaks. And he watched as Rafa saved two match points, then got a mini break and won the match 10-8 in the tiebreak. 

The moment he won, he switched off the consoler and looked down at the controller in his hands. There was no celebration, not even a small one, not even a smile of some satisfaction. Nothing. Roger didn't know what to say. After so many years of knowing Rafa, he was still left speechless sometimes. 

But he had to begin somewhere and he had a feeling Rafa was waiting for him to speak first. 

"Rafa I am sorry about snapping at you the other day." No beating around the bush. Roger said what he wanted to in the clearest way he could muster. 

Rafa smirked softly. Roger didn't know if it was sarcastic or sad but he didn't mind either. Rafa could be angry and it was only natural. 

"You no here to say sorry for the loss?" 

"No." 

"Why?" 

"You fought hard. You fought till the very last moment. There's nothing to be sorry about. I'm proud of you." 

And it was true. Roger was sad Rafa didn't win. But he wasn't sorry about the match. Rafa had fought very hard. He wasn't going to allow himself to be sorry about that. 

Rafa looked up at him now. For the first time since he had walked in here. Roger could see the moisture beginning to pool in the corners of his eyes now. In that one moment, Rafa suddenly looked so vulnerable. So fragile. So unapologetically beautiful. And Roger reached out instinctively. 

"Raf" he cupped his cheek and even before he knew it Rafa had closed the distant between them and was clinging to him. 

Roger wrapped him in his arms and closed his eyes. He found himself rubbing soothing circles on Rafa's back as the younger man cried. Roger knew the tears were more of exhaustion, of being on edge for the whole night and of their argument than the actual loss itself. Rafa had probably held it all in till now. 

They were sitting in a rather weird position with Rafa leaning on Roger and Roger supporting himself with one hand on the bed. But he didn't mind. He allowed his lover to wet his t-shirt with tears as they sat there, rocking together slightly. 

Finally Rafa looked up and gave Roger a small smile before lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling. Roger lied down beside him and joined him in looking at the ceiling. 

It was familiar room, this one. They had spent countless nights here every June or July just lying together. 

"Rogi..." 

"Hm." 

"I wanted it too you know?" 

"Wanted what Raf?" 

"The rematch" 

Roger turned his head so he was now looking at Rafa. "I know," he sighed. "I'm sorry Rafa. I don't know why I snapped like that. It wasn't your fault and-" 

"Is okay." 

"What?" 

Now Rafa looked at him too. "Is okay no?" 

"How can you just forgive me? I mean I literally said we should take a break and stuff. That was very mean of me." 

"Rogi I know you for years now. You are stupid no? You keep saying things you not mean and then waste time saying sorry Rafa sorry Rafa sorry Rafa... Is boring no?" 

There was a tinge of humour in Rafa's tone and Roger had to smile at that. Rafa was right of course. He was pretty stupid sometimes. 

"Rafa... I'm really really sorry." 

"I know. Is okay. Really." Rafa looked at him genuinely and honestly. 

Roger sighed and looked at the ceiling again. He was feeling too emotional again. They were both okay with expressing emotions around each other but god, he didn't have any strength right now. 

"Maybe we can meet in the US open" Roger said finally. That could happen. That anomaly was still pending. 

Rafa smiled and nodded. "Si. Wimby would be nice though..." 

"I know... Wimby would've been great. I guess we'll survive though." 

Rafa chuckled softly and turned on his side, fully facing Roger now. He reached out and tucked a stray stand of hair behind Roger's ear and smiled softly. "We always survive." 

"Always." 

Rafa scooped closer and wrapped an arm around Roger's waist, throwing a leg across his thigh and effectively locking him. 

"Hey, I'm still in my jeans. Let me change at least." 

Rafa frowned and looked up at him, "Roger, shut up." He deadpanned. 

Roger had to chuckle at that but Rafa was already burying his face in his neck and shutting off for the night. 

Roger let him. He would survive a night in his jeans instead of pajamas, he was sure. He pulled his lover in closer and placed the softest of kisses in his hair. 

It had been a long day, and a long two weeks, but it wasn't the end. It would never be the end. The question wasn't if they would ever bounce back. The question only was, when. And he had a feeling, soon.


	3. Moody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else upset about the Laver cup and no Fedal? I was suspecting it a long time and I was kinda prepared but ughhh, this was my one hope of seeing Fedal together this year and now I know it's not happening for sure. 
> 
> Anyway, since Wimby started, the only good thing that happened for me was Rafa won Toronto. Apart from that I've not been too happy about anything lately. And Roger's draw at USO, god!!! Little hope he'll get past the QF with Djoko :(
> 
> Oh well, rant over. Here's some fluff to cheer us up and sorry it's shorter than usual.
> 
> Thanks and hope you like it XD
> 
> xx

"Everybody needs little time away, I heard a say... From each other... Even lovers need a holiday... Far away, from each other..."

"What you doing?" Rafa arched an eyebrow at him from the breakfast counter, chin resting on arms, which were resting on the counter.

"Humming," Roger deadpanned. 

"Why?" Rafa liked that song, just right now it was annoying.

"For the fun of it," Roger shrugged.

Rafa sighed and rolled his eye, then buried his face in his arms. He felt so sleepy and tired. "Roger, how, *how* can you have so much energy in the morning? You are not even a morning person and especially after last night..." Rafa trailed off, trying to muffle a yawn.

"I always have great energy." Roger said, all cheery. "Night, morning, afternoon, you're the lazy person here."

"Que?" Rafa's head snapped up. "That is no true! I have energy, always Roger! I am not lazy!"

Roger grinned and turned back to making his coffee, leaving Rafa frowning at his back.

Rafa sighed loudly, making sure Roger heard it, and went back to falling asleep on the counter, or trying anyway. Not that he could with all the noise Roger was making. And he almost jumped when a plate clanked too close to him. Roger had put two slices of toast in front of him and was already back to making more for himself.

Rafa frowned again, "I no want toast," he objected, offended by the fact that he was not given any say in what he wanted for breakfast.

Roger glanced at him over the shoulder and frowned, "you don't? But that's all you've had since we came here."

"So? Is no mean I want it today! You have to ask no?" 

Roger rolled his eyes and shrugged, "fine make your own then, I'm hungry."

Rafa was still staring at the toast when Roger flopped on the stool beside him, munching away at his toast and jam and juice. How British of him, Rafa thought.

"Wimbledon still not over you huh?"

Roger stopped mid bite and stared at him in confusion, "what?" He muffled through the toast.

"So British breakfast, toast jam juice."

Roger arched an eyebrow, then went back to eating his toast, not even bothering to answer Rafa anymore. Rafa waited for a few minutes, when he was sure he was not getting any attention from Roger, he lightly kicked his foot under the table. 

Roger glared at him now. "What?"

"Nothing," Rafa shrugged.

"Jeez let a man eat in peace!"

"Eat no? I am no stopping you."

"No. But you're kicking me."

"I am still not stopping you."

"Oh my god, why you acting so pissy since..." Roger tried to remember since when exactly because it had been a few days.

"Since last week," Rafa helped.

"Thank you," Roger nodded, "why you acting so pissy since last week?"

"Because, I do not know."

Roger narrowed his eyes at him, because he was so not convinced of that.

"I not know!" 

"You do know. Just tell me already! Or let me eat."

"Fine. Eat."

Roger scowled at him before turning his attention back to the toast. 

The rest of the morning was spent in pretty much silence, neither willing to broach the topic again.

Evening found Rafa sprawled on the couch and Roger wandered over to him, trying to snuggle up. But Rafa moved on the other side and Roger frowned again.

"What are you doing on the phone?" He asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Rafa mumbled back.

"Can't be nothing."

"Is nothing!" 

Roger crawled upto him, trying to peek into the phone, but Rafa held his hand away and the next thing they knew they were struggling to grab Rafa's phone. 

Roger managed to grab it for two seconds before it was snatched away again and his frown only deepened.

"That's me and Novak at practice today." He asked it as a question, not sure why Rafa was frowning at his phone a moment ago, presumably seeing that picture. "Why you scowling at the picture?"

"Is nothing no?"

"Rafa!" Roger decided enough was enough, and straddled the Spaniard, pinning him down and poking his side. "I'll tickle you if you don't tell me!" He grinned as Rafa tried squirming away but failed.

"You are suddenly so friendly with Novak no? Bff now no? Laver Cup and all that." 

Roger looked at Rafa as he said that and couldn't help but notice how much he resembled a child saying that. Half whining, half annoyed, half cute and cuddly. And Roger first reaction was actually a laugh.

Rafa glared at him and he stopped, or tried to anyway.

"You're jealous of Novak?" He asked amused with the turn of events.

"No!" Rafa retorted but his expression spoke a different story.

"Yes you are." Roger grinned again and threw his arms around Rafa's neck. He was smiling like a dork at Rafa but he couldn't help it, he looked so adorable sulking.

"I'm no jealous."

"Rafa I cannot believe, you are actually, really *jealous* of Novak?" He couldn't keep the amusement out of it.

"No, and is not funny." Rafa looked away from looking all sad.

"Will you tell me what the matter is? Please?" Roger pecked his cheek softly, urging him.

"You'll have fun with him no?" Rafa sighed. "Play doubles, Djokerer Utd twitter hashtag, be best friends..."

"Well you got to play Davis cup instead don't you? We need some big name." 

Rafa frowned at him again and shook his head. "Is no fair!"

"Yeah I agree. It's not."

"You cannot be with him like me, like last year, is not same!"

"No it's not."

"And I don't want Novak around you," Rafa whined again and Roger could help kiss the pout on his lips.

"I adored playing with you last year, Rafa. And nothing, *nothing*, comes close to that. Novak, Cilic, Delpo, none of them come close to *that* one doubles we played. You have to know that."

Rafa looked at him then, still pouting and eyes nearly teared up, and Roger had no idea where this moodiness came from suddenly, but he didn't mind. Everyone needed a little cheering up sometimes and he knew how much he wanted to participate in Laver Cup this year. But duty called elsewhere. And that okay, though he himself wanted Rafa on his team again too.

"Next year we'll play again okay?"

Rafa nodded and buried his face in Roger neck, nuzzling and Roger squirmed because that tickled. 

"Hey, stop" he tried pushing Rafa back but he only pressed his nose deeper into his neck. 

"Love you."

"I love you too baby, you know that, right?"

Rafa nodded and wrapped his arms around Roger waist, pulling him closer. Roger stroked the Spaniard's hair and chuckled softly.

"I can't believe you spent an entire week annoyed about that though," Roger was still amused.

"I no wanna talk about it," Rafa spoke into his neck.

Roger chuckled but relented and just hugged his lover back. "Okay."


	4. Drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again,
> 
> First of all, big apologies to everyone who has written/updated something in the last few days. I've not read any fics recently because I was just fed up/sad with tennis and everything related. I was too upset to read anything... So pls don't be mad I haven't commented in ages! *hugs*
> 
> I thought I needed to write something, anything, to get back to normal. So i sat myself down to write this out... It's fluffy and happy, I think. And it's just Fedal fluffiness, not much plot. But I really needed this so here it is XD
> 
> The story happens sort of a few days after Rafa's USO loss, and I've assumed both Rog and Rafa are still in NYC for a few days after. 
> 
> It's nothing grand but I hope you like it :)
> 
> xx

Rafa I think we should get married," Roger suggested it as if it was as simple as ordering a drink. 

Rafa sputtered and just about stopped himself from choking on the cake he was eating. He glared at Roger, a clearly tipsy Roger, from across the table with what he hoped was a convincingly dismayed expression. 

Roger looked at him after waiting two whole seconds for a response and getting none. "What?" He whined. When Rafa's expression turned into an even deeper frown, he picked up a piece of fruit from his nearly finished cake and threw it at Rafa, who for his part looked completely gobsmacked. 

"What the hell Roger?" Rafa slowly ducked his head at the piece of kiwi clinging to his shirt and peeled it off with an aura of someone quickly running out of patience. 

"You always look at me like that when I suggest a cool idea!" Roger sounded like a little girl complaining about not getting the promised cookie after dinner. 

"You throw food at me!" 

"Yes," Roger grinned. 

Rafa stared with his expression set, trying so hard not to break into a a wide grin himself. 

"It was funny." 

"No, is not funny. At all." 

"For me." Roger sighed dramatically. "For you, well... you're kinda serious so you know..." 

Rafa rolled his eyes but man, was he happy to have finally gotten over the gloom that had set in last few days. It wasn't like they were arguing, it was more like they were depressed together. So they hadn't even gotten out of their room. They woke up, ate, huddled together on the couch infront of the telly, had lunch, went back to the couch, had dinner and then went to bed. It was nice to do that one day, maybe even two. But more than that was no good and Rafa knew he had to drag them out of it because funnily enough, Roger seemed quite happy to just let it carry on as it is. Usually Roger was the quickest to get over losses. This time he though, he was just happy to let it run its course, because this time it wasn't just about his own loss. He was incredibly bothered by how Rafa's run had ended too. So they had just sat in and spent the days being lazy couch potatoes. Until today afternoon, when Rafa got really bored and cranky. He knew he had to get out and get over the stupid cycle they had found themselves in. So he had dragged Roger here, to this small restaurant close by. 

"So," Roger said, looking all serious again. "What do you think about my cooool idea." 

Rafa shook his head in disbelief. "Cool idea?" He couldn't suppress the sarcasm. 

"Yes!" 

"There is nothing cool about that Roger. Nothing." 

Roger huffed, struggling to form an argument, and luckily for Rafa his attention quickly turned back to his cake. Or the fruit pieces on it anyway. He carefully peeled off a bit of strawberry and nibbled on it, apparently unaware of Rafa still looking at him. 

Rafa shifted in his seat, suddenly hating the idea of suggesting a dinner to take their mind off things. It had worked, he had to admit, though not entirely in the way he was hoping for. Was a drunk Roger better than the Roger who was pissed about Rafa's injuries, for example? Hell yes. But Rafa wasn't altogether sure if a drunk Roger at a restaurant who was turning him on was all that better either. 

He didn't really have time to debate though because he felt Roger's shoe nudging at his foot. "What Roger?" He asked, exasperated. 

"You didn't answer me." 

"About?" 

"Married... We should get... That." 

"Get married?" 

"Yes that." 

Rafa rolled his eyes but if he was being quite honest, and he wasn't entirely happy that he was being honest here, he was finding the silly idea quite amusing. He saw Roger pulling puppy eyes at him and chuckled. "And why we should do that Rogi?" 

"Because," 

"Si." 

"Because... I don't really... know." Roger knitted his eyebrows in concentration, as if he was trying to remember why he wanted that. And then his face lit up, like it all made sense. "Because, I love you," he said proudly. 

And Rafa's heart melted, "Rogi. I love you too no?" 

"Yes. So shall we?" 

"We can't Rogi" 

"Why though? It's easy. Look, we get out now and go to a shop, buy a ring - no, two rings - and find somewhere to... thingy... what's it called?" 

"Register?" Rafa helped 

"Yes that, do that. See? Easy." 

Rafa sighed, he wished it was as easy as Roger made it sound in his drunken state. "Later. Okay? After a few years." 

"A few years?!" Roger squeaked loudly, and Rafa feared it was too loud for the small restaurant. 

"Yes," he whispered, "come on, we're going now. You are done with cake?" 

Roger looked down at the cake and pouted, like it was reason for all his troubles. "Years," he repeated. 

"Si. Eat the rest no? I'll ask for the bill." 

Rafa eyes searched around the place till he nodded to a waiter for the bill and then his attention was back to Roger, still staring at the little piece of cake. 

"You want anything else?" 

Roger looked up at confused, then shook his head and he looked so crushed suddenly but so adorable, Rafa's heart almost shattered. He allowed himself a small smile before the waiter came. 

They paid the bill and it was a small task to get Roger to navigate his way out of the place but they managed in the end. Their suite was only a ten minute walk from here. But Rafa wondered if he should call a taxi anyway, what with Roger like this. 

"I call a taxi no?" He muttered as he fished his phone. 

"No!" Roger snatched his phone and held it away as Rafa tried to reach for it. "Wanna walk." 

"Give me my phone!" 

Roger giggled and kissed him, not a peck. A proper, deep kiss and it took all of Rafa's will power to push him away gently and break it. Because they were in public for God's sake! Though there was no one looking, it still counted. 

Roger was still grinning at him as he stared in disbelief, trying to get his bearings. "Phone Roger!" 

"Nope." 

"Fine. Walk then." 

"Okay." Roger began walking off but then wobbled and giggled before Rafa was on his side, balancing him. 

"You are dumb." Rafa deadpanned. 

"Hm," Roger's hand found its way to Rafa's and he held it tightly as they walked, hand in hand. Rafa was happy to have chosen somewhere which was a quiet walk away. No one was going to recognise two tennis players in some backstreets and alleyways at night. Tennis wasn't as popular here in NYC and Rafa was almost glad about it now. They walked like that, hand in hand, Roger's head resting his shoulder, in the cool night breeze and twinkling towers rising above them nearby, but not too close. It was such a perfect night. 

"Some day, Rafa, I'll marry you." Roger whispered. It was a low murmur, meant only for Rafa's ears, not even the walls that surrounded them. And Rafa didn't know what to say. He had no words. So he let him carry on. It wasn't everyday he heard Roger all mushy and romantic like this, so he took the opportunity whenever it presented itself. 

"And then, some day, we'll have kids," Roger continued. "And they'll call me Papa. And they'll call you Dad..." Roger paused to consider, "or other way around." 

Rafa smiled. "You should be Papa. Myla, Charlie, Leo and Lenny, they all call you Papa no? So you can be Papa. I can be Dad." 

Roger gave it some serious thought, trying to make sense of what all Rafa said and then nodded his agreement. "Yeah. That's good idea... And then some day we'll be old and frail." 

"And then we'll have so many problems no? Health problems." 

Roger grinned. "Probably. Maybe we won't be able to walk. Or we'll have crutches. Or something like that..." He trailed off, clearly imagining their oldage. 

"Si... Crutches. Never like those." 

"You'll get used to it," Roger grinned. "And then some day, it will be different again." 

"Different?" 

"Hm..." Roger lingered on it. "Because I'm five years older than you so you know, some day you'll have to be on your own again-" 

"Shhh," Rafa intervened because he knew exactly where this was going now and he wasn't one bit comfortable talking, or even thinking, about that. About how their age difference might one day impact their lives when they're old enough. He didn't want to know. Some things were inevitable, like their ailing bodies, dwindling capacities, passing time, everything. But there was a whole life waiting after retirement and Rafa refused to think beyond that right now. They were going to live another life after tennis. Enjoy it, love it, live it. Other things, sad and inevitable things, didn't matter right now. This, right now, he was more than content with. He didn't need to know so much or think so much. He couldn't bring himself to. Not now. Maybe not ever. 

"Is okay like this too no?" He squeezed Roger's hand. "Right now... Is okay" 

Roger smiled and squeezed Rafa's hand back, "hm," he melted a bit more into Rafa, sighing softly. "Is okay." 

They walked the rest of the way to the hotel in a content silence. They were over the losses. Over the bad things. Over the negatives. It could only get better from here.


	5. Once Again

“Rafa stop doing that!”

“Stop doing what?”

“Stop going backhand, backhand, backhand and then down the T.”

Rafa grinned at Roger’s obvious annoyance. “Is not new,” he shrugged, though he knew it was only to annoy Roger more.

“No it’s not.” Roger almost pouted. “But I thought we were just hitting for fun!”

Rafa suppressed a grin and put on a dead serious face. “Roger I never hit for fun. Practice is no fun time, no?”

Roger stood at the baseline and shook his head. “I cannot be bothered playing for real. This is vacation!”

“You suggest playing.”

“Yes yes I know. I just didn’t know you were going to go full on.”

Rafa grinned again and allowed himself a smug smile in his mind as he walked back to the bench and flopped down. Roger stood and stared at him for a while then came and sat down next to him.

“I don’t like you.”

Rafa rolled his eyes and shrugged.

Roger stared at him, “you don’t care I don’t like you?”

Rafa shrugged again, putting on his best serious face. “Is okay, you are no supposed to like opponents no?”

“Hm,” Roger made a face and leaned again the backrest, squinting at the sun. “Hey Rafa?”

“Hm?”

“What you doing this year?”

“Huh?”

“Like are you free this year?”

Rafa shifted to face him properly, expression riddled with questions. “Free? For what?”

“I don’t know,” Roger shrugged. Then sighed and turned to face him. “I mean, I do know. Are you free… after the US open?”

Rafa arched an eyebrow at him, still confused. Was Roger already planning another vacation or something, he had no idea. “Si I’m free after the US open… I think… Roger, is December, how will I know I’m free after US open? Is long time away no?”

“Yeah well, no. Not like that. I mean, schedule wise, will you be free in September?”

Rafa was half through another shrug when it dawned on him. Roger wasn’t asking about another vacation after US open - he was asking about something else entirely. And Rafa’s whole face lit up at the thought of it. “Yes!” He squealed and stood up so suddenly, it made Roger jump.

“Yes what?” now it was Roger’s turn to be confused.

“Laver Cup! Yes! I’m free this year!”

It only took a moment but soon Roger’s face was matching his. He looked up at Rafa, who was still standing like an excited little kid, and grinned. “How did you know?" He shook his head. "Nevermind. But like, really? You’ll play this year?”

Rafa nodded happily and sat on Roger’s lap, wrapping him in his arms tightly.

“Jesus Rafa,” Roger looked around almost instinctively, checking no one was looking, before realising it was a private court and there was no one around. He relaxed again and hugged Rafa back, equally tightly, burying his face in Rafa’s neck.

They stayed like that for a long time, rocking back and forth slightly, the Mediterranean sun beating down on them. By the time they parted, their shirts had clung together with sweat. Rafa pulled back enough to look at Roger but didn’t get up from his lap. He found Roger looking at him with a look approaching fondness and he smiled.

“What?” He whispered.

“Nothing.” Roger whispered back. “You’re the best.” He smiled again. It was a different smile. Not the excited one like before, but a calm and affectionate one. A smile usually reserved for Rafa only and he loved everything about it.

“Is good you know.” Rafa giggled as Roger rolled his eyes -  he knew how to spoil the moment pretty well. But then Roger tightened his arms around Rafa’s waist and pulled him closer, placing a lingering kiss on his cheek.

“I like you as an opponent but I love you as a team mate.” He mumbled against Rafa’s cheek.

Rafa sighed softly. He could melt right now, right here. And he was tempted to just cuddle upto Roger again, let their lips meet or let their bodies mould or let the moment carry on. But as much as he loved this, he still pushed Roger back gently. The confusion on the Swiss’ face was adorable but, again, he resisted the urge to kiss it off.

“Rogi, we have to finish the match right now.”

Roger scrunched his nose, then frowned, half amused. “Seriously?”

“Si! We are no team mates yet!” And with that he got off Roger and pulled him upto his feet too.

“But I was okay to just make out or something…”

“No!” Rafa shook his head stubbornly. “Match. I want to win.” He pushed the racket into Roger’s hand and ushered him towards the baseline. “Go, serve.”

Roger tried pouting but there was no room for argument in Rafa’s expression. It didn’t take long for his own competitiveness to kick in though, and he huffed dramatically. “Fine then! You want a match, I’ll give you a match Rafael Nadal.”

And with that they returned to their positions. What had started off as a lazy hit on a sunny afternoon soon turned into an actual match. It was a shame no one was watching this. Roger reckoned that had this been an actual match, it would've gone down as another one of their classics together. But he guessed this was only theirs to treasure and live. Still, he was incredibly happy that he would have another chance to share the same side of the court with Rafa. And this time, the whole world would watch. Once again. And he could not wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi peeps. After a looooong time, I know! I hope you're all well!
> 
> I needed a break and something else happened too (nothing terrible, but it maaay be the reason for the new name/account). As you may have already noticed I've shifted my fics over here, bar one or two. We'll see about those later.
> 
> And, to my subscribers, I am so terribly sorry you weren't notified for this one... But I'll now be using this one, so pls do sub here instead :)
> 
> Thanks XD
> 
> xx 
> 
> PS I know this chapter was incredibly cheesy but I thought I'd write it anyway!


End file.
